Releasing Dragons
by wildegreenlight
Summary: After Ron's return, Hermione struggle to hold on to her anger, but it's not easy.


**A/N: This is a little something that I wrote for the** _ **Sinfully Romione**_ **fest on Tumblr (hosted by the AMAZING coyotelaughingsoftly). It tied for the win in the Wrath category (with the talented theperksofshippingromione); a category that was filled with fantastic fics. Special shoutout to callieskye for the beta and all my group chat lovelies for just being awesome!**

"Hermione?" Harry came up behind her slowly. She had stormed out of the tent moments before and, in a rather uncharacteristic fashion, he had followed.

"Not now...just give me a minute, ok?"

"Look, you know I normally stay out of these things…"

"One of the reasons I've always liked you...don't push it," she still did not turn around, afraid of his seeing more in her face than she was willing to discuss.

"Alright, all I'll say is this...he's trying...really trying."

"I know that!"

"So why not give him a break?"

"A BREAK?!" She wheeled around, laughing sardonically, "I think I have been more than fair."

Harry sighed and glanced behind him before continuing, cautiously, "I just want to help you."

"Help me?! I am not the one who needs help!"

"Fine! Forget I said anything! But you need to understand," he punctuated each word, demanding that she listen, that she understand the full import of his words, "I don't think I have another bezoar handy!"

Hermione stumbled back as if she had been physically struck. _How dare he! That was too far! This is not like last year! This is not about some petty jealousy! This is life and death._ Harry didn't even have the decency to look ashamed. In fact, he was giving her a look that bore an odd resemblance to Dumbledore. That "I know more than you do, but I'm not going to give you all the details because I think it's bloody hilarious to watch you figure it out on your own" look. A dragon of red hot anger breathed fire through her chest, but before she could form a coherent reply, another voice came from behind Harry.

"Out of bounds mate," Ron had ducked out of the tent and was focusing on Harry with a steely look that she had not seen from him since his return.

"Alright...I'm out of it. Just don't come looking for me to help you later...I'm going to get some sleep." with that he stalked back into the tent, leaving them both in uncomfortable silence. Ron was the first to speak.

"Sorry about that...he had no right to say that to you," with cautious steps he moved closer to her. He wanted to reach out and comfort her, but he feared the inevitable rejection of her pulling further away from him. She blinked up at him, her eyes blazing in a way that left him conflicted.

"I don't need you to look out for me."

"I know you don't."

"Then stay out of it."

"How am I supposed to do that?"

"Oh I think you have plenty of practice leaving me to fend for myself!" It was a low blow. She knew it. She wanted it to hurt. It was cold. There in the forest. There in her heart. Cold. But, the rage warmed her. _Hurt him!_ It said. _Leave him on his knees, crying, like he did you!_ She waited. For him to drop his head. For him to apologize. For him to walk away. He did none of those things.

"Go ahead...I can take it, Hermione. I deserve it. If anger is all you have...give it to me. I came back knowing full and damn well that you might never forgive me. I came anyway. Understand?"

"I know why you came back."

"Oh, really? Why did I come back? Tell me?"

"You came back to help finish this. To save Harry...to protect your family," even the anger could not convince her otherwise. She needed to be careful though, the rage was beginning to fade. The earnest look on his face was driving the dragon back, she reached for it, grabbing it with clenched fists, urging it to remain.

"That's a good answer, a safe answer. But it's not the true answer, although I suspect you already know that," he took that one final step toward her, never breaking eye contact. He reached for her, oh so slowly, holding his breath as he ghosted his fingertips over the curve of her jaw.

"Please," silent tears slipped past her lashes.

"What?" He was looking at her, brow furrowed, studying her like a chessboard, contemplating, discerning what the best move might be. She knew in that moment that he would, as he had at the age of 12, make any sacrificial move in order to keep her safe.

"This anger...it's all I have...if you take it, I'm not sure I can keep going...I know it doesn't make sense...oh, Ron," she sobbed openly then and sank into his chest. Finding herself wrapped in his impossibly strong arms, she clutched him as if her life depended upon it. Hermione realized that she could not hold onto him and the rage simultaneously, so she released the dragon and allowed a new emotion to fill the empty cave it had left behind.


End file.
